


Purple

by Jasleigh22



Series: Rainbow Series [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Asexual Mycroft, Boys in Skirts, Fluff, Gen, Gender non-conformity, Hurt/Comfort, I dont know how to tag, I dont know if uncle rudy will actually make an appearance, Kid Fic, Kid John, Kid Sherlock, Possible Mystrade, Sherlock likes skirts, and dresses, he only cares about Sherlock, if this goes on that long, neither does john, obviously, probablt johnlock in the very distant future, sherlock doesn't care about gender stereotypes, they're only five now!, violet and siger holmes are very open-minded and supportive of their children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 21:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5841082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jasleigh22/pseuds/Jasleigh22
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock’s not like other little boys, and he has no qualms about that. Neither does John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Purple

**Author's Note:**

> This will be a part of a series. Please let me know what you think!

Mrs. Turner knew from the moment Sherlock Homes walked into her classroom that this wasn’t going to be a normal school year. He smiled politely at her and murmured a quiet ‘good morning’ before putting his backpack away and taking a seat on the colorful carpet. He sat cross-legged with his hands folded in his lap, fidgeting every few minutes. Mrs. Turner sighed and resigned herself to a long year. 

* * *

 

Five year old Sherlock sat on the edge of his bed swinging his bare feet as his mother rummaged through his wardrobe. Several outfits lay rejected in a pile on the bed.

“What about this?” his mother asked, holding up a deep purple collared shirt for inspection.

“Yes,” the little boy said, grinning and exposing his two missing top teeth, “And I can wear my pretty purple trainers with it.” He leapt from the bed and knelt down to pull out the brand new Converses that his mum had bought specially for his first day of primary school. “Can I wear my new skirt as well, mummy?” he said loudly from underneath his bed.

“Not today, sweet pea,” she said, lifting him up from the floor.

“Why not?” he asked, clutching his new shoes to his chest.

“Some people might not like it,” she said, sitting down with him perched on her lap, “Remember how I said not everyone will think your skirts and dresses are pretty?”

“Uh-huh, like grandfather.”

“Yes, but mummy and daddy and Myc and Uncle Rudy all do, and that’s what matters.” She smiled and pressed a kiss to his dark curls.

“Then why can’t I wear my skirt?” Confusion swam in his big pale blue eyes.

“Because the people at school might be like your grandfather. Besides, your purple shirt and trainers will look just as nice with your new denim trousers. And you can change into your skirt as soon as you get home, okay?”

Sherlock pouted and nodded.

“Now you get dressed while I make sure Myc is up.” She kissed his forehead before sitting him on the floor and leaving the room.

The second she was gone, Sherlock ran over to his wardrobe and found the black knee-length flowy skirt that his mum bought him a few days ago. He shoved the skirt as well as a pair of striped leggings into his bag before hurrying to get dressed. He was so excited. He was finally going to school so he could learn and become as smart as his big brother, Mycroft, and he was going to wear his pretty new shoes and skirt. 

* * *

 

Violet and Siger Holmes were no stranger to the phrase “too open-minded.” They had heard it all of their lives. When Siger’s younger sibling came out as gender-fluid, when their oldest son, Mycroft, came out as asexual at thirteen years old, and when their four year old son asked for a dress. It was a simple black dress with long flowy sleeves and a purple ribbon tied around the waist. Ignoring the shocked looks of the other customers, Violet found her son’s size and put it with the rest of her son’s clothing. Later that day, she and her husband smiled as they watched their son running around the backyard playing pirates in his new dress. He wasn’t hurting anyone, so they didn’t care what he wore. 

* * *

 

Plastering a smile on her face, Mrs. Turner walked over to the little boy in the skirt, sitting quietly if a bit fidgety on the carpet. “Good morning,” she said, her voice sounding overly cheery, “You’re early. You’re the first to arrive.”

Sherlock frowned at both her fake smile and her stating the obvious. “My big brother likes to get to school very early so I get dropped off early as well,” he said, thinking about the apple in his backpack that he’d brought for his teacher. His mummy and Mycroft had told him that people didn’t really bring their teachers apples, but he’d seen it on the telly and wanted to do it anyway. But he didn’t really want to give it to her now because she was being fake and he didn’t like that. Besides, if he left it in his bag, it would start to rot and maybe he could turn it into an experiment. Mind made up, he turned his attention away from his teacher, who had already ruined his first day of school.

Luckily, students started showing up, taking Mrs. Turner’s attention away from him. An olive-skinned girl with dark curly hair walked in clutching a blue backpack. The smile Mrs. Turner gave her wasn’t fake. Neither was the one she gave the red-haired boy who came in next. Both put their bags away before joining Sherlock on the rug.

“You’re not a girl,” the curly-haired girl said, frowning at Sherlock.

“Ob’vously,” he said, frowning back.

“Then why are you wearing a skirt,” the red-haired boy demanded, “Only girls wear skirts.”

“Says who?”

“Says everybody, weirdo,” the little girl said.

“I’m not a weirdo. You’re just too dumb to realize that boys can wear whatever they want just like you can.”

“I’m telling!” she said, narrowing her eyes, “Mrs. Turner, this boy just called me dumb!”

“Sherlock, we don’t call people names. That’s mean. Apologize to Sally and Phillip.”

“But I didn’t even say anything to–”

“Apologize.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, folding his arms across his chest.

Before she could say anything else to him, more students started to arrive. A chubby boy with glasses named Mike. A small quiet girl named Molly. A pale dark-haired girl named Irene. A dark-haired boy with large brown eyes named James. A short-haired blonde girl named Mary. A tall blond boy named Sebastian. And a short sandy-haired little boy named John, who was almost late. They all stared at Sherlock when they walked into the room. The only ones who didn’t seem to care that he was wearing a skirt was Irene, Molly, and John. The sandy-haired boy even sat next to him even though no one else seemed inclined to.

“Hi, I’m John,” he said smiling.

“Sherlock Holmes.”

“You’re wearing a skirt.”

“Yes, so?”

“Oh…um, i-it’s pretty,” he said, blushing.

“Oh.” Sherlock blinked. “Thank you. Sally called me a weirdo for wearing it.”

“Well, I don’t think you’re a weirdo. My big sister, Harry, wears boy stuff all the time, so why can’t you wear girl stuff?”

 

* * *

Sherlock was highly disappointed with school so far. He already knew all of this stuff. Weren’t they supposed to teach him stuff he didn’t know? And the kids were so dumb. Some of them could barely read. And they kept looking at his skirt funny. Well, not Irene, Molly or John. But Irene was more interested in James, and Molly kept hiding behind her long, brown hair. John could read okay. And he called his skirt pretty. But he also said he liked Sally’s drawing of a police car, which wasn’t even very good.

When recess came, Sherlock hid behind a tree and watched the other kids. Irene and James were on the swings with Sebastian pushing them. Molly and Mary were playing hopscotch. Mike, Phillip, Sally, and John were playing tag by the jungle gym. There was a dead bird at the other end of the playground that Sherlock really wanted to look at, but he didn’t have his magnifying glass. Also, he didn’t want to get bird blood on his new skirt. But he was really curious about the bird corpse. He’d never seen one in real life before. Just pictures in his brother’s books. Maybe he’d just take a little look without−

“Whatcha doing?”

Sherlock spun around to find John watching him curiously. His blonde hair was matted down with sweat, and there was a smudge of dirt on his nose. How had Sherlock not noticed the other boy coming up behind him? He could tell by the soles of his well-worn trainers that he wasn’t a light stepper, so how did he not hear him?

“D’you wanna play?”

“Play what?” Sherlock asked, wrinkling his nose in confusion.

“I don’t know,” John said, shrugging, “Why were you hiding behind the tree?”

“Observing.” “Ob-serving what?” the other boy asked, saying the unfamiliar word carefully.

“Everything.” “Oh cool. Can I observe too?” John grinned.

“Probably not. Most people are too stupid to observe correctly.”

John’s grin vanished. “Hey, that’s not nice,” he said, scowling, “Calling people stupid is mean and it hurts their feelings.”

Sherlock furrowed his brow. “B-but it’s true,” he insisted, “A lot of people aren’t as smart as me.” Sherlock bit his lip and fought back tears of frustration. He’d only told the truth and now he was probably going to lose his only chance of making a friend.

“Hmm, well that probably is true,” John said, “You do seem real smart. You read everything right in class, and you know words that Ms. Turner probably doesn’t even know, but it’s still not nice to call people stupid. So say sorry.”

“What?” Sherlock stared at the other boy in shock. He wasn’t running away and he called Sherlock smart.

“Say sorry. That’s what you do when you’re mean to somebody. How don’t you know that?”

Sherlock shrugged.

“Well?” John said expectantly.

“I’m sorry,” the other boy said, fidgeting with his skirt.

John beamed. “Okay then. Want to play pirates?” he asked, finding a couple of sticks by the base of the tree and handing one to the dark-haired boy.

“Sure! But I get to be the captain,” Sherlock said, grinning, “You can be my first mate.”

“Okay,” John said, “but maybe we could pretend that I’m tired of being first mate and I wanna be captain, but I have to fight you for it. That way we can have a sword fight!”

Sherlock nodded, and the swordfight commenced. Both boys grinned and laughed as they fought for “The Black Bee.”

“You’re supposed to be my first mate! How could you betray me?” Sherlock exclaimed.

“I’m tired of taking orders from you, Captain Lock,” John said, “The Black Bee will be mine!”

“Never! The Black Bee is and will forever be mine!”

“John, why are you playing with that weirdo?” Sally stood at the edge of the playground with her arms crossed over her chest.

Phillip stood next to her scowling. “Yeah, he’s a weirdy freak,” he said.

“Sherlock’s not a weirdo or a freak. He’s my friend, and we’re playing pirates,” John said, frowning.

“He is too,” Sally insisted, “He’s wearing a skirt, and he acts like he knows everything.”

“Yeah, you don’t wanna be friends with a freak like him,” Phillip added.

Sherlock dropped his “sword” and inched back towards the tree he’d been hiding behind. John would probably go off with Sally and Phillip now that he knew what a weirdo he was. It was fun while it lasted.

“Stop calling my friend names or I’m gonna tell,” John said, stomping his foot.

“Fine! Be friends a weirdo, tattle-tale!” Sally said before storming away with Phillip following.

John huffed and threw down his “sword.” “Sherlock−” He looked around and found his friend huddled behind the tree. “Sherlock,” he said, running over to the curly-haired boy, “you didn’t wanna keep playin?”

“I thought you were going to leave to play with Sally and Phillip,” Sherlock said quietly.

“No way! They’re mean. They said mean stuff about you. I don’t wanna play with someone who’s mean to my friend.” John knelt down beside the other boy.

“Friend?” Sherlock asked shyly.

“Yeah! So did you wanna finish playin?”

“Recess is almost over,” Sherlock said, “but we could finish playing pirates at my house after school. I’ve got a pirate hat and swords, and my brother helped me build a ship in the backyard.”

“Wicked!” John exclaimed, “I’ll ask my mum when she comes to pick me up.”

* * *

 

Violet Holmes was shocked when Sherlock came running out of the school wearing the skirt she specifically told him he couldn’t wear. She was even more shocked when he came dragging a little blonde boy over to her and asked if his new friend John could come over and play pirates with him.


End file.
